Ron's Brilliant Diversion
by KeatsLove
Summary: To distract Professor Snape so Harry can escape, Ron comes up with a 'brilliant' diversion which involves snogging Hermione.
1. Chapter 1

Ron's Brilliant Diversion (age 16)

"He's been after me for weeks, I swear," Harry complains, staring into his mug of butterbeer. "I didn't mean to charm his hairbrush. It just happened."

"Snape owns a hairbrush?" Ron asks, looking up with raised eyebrows from behind his Care For Magical Creatures textbook. "And it works? I mean, he uses it and such?"

"Oh, honesty, Ron," I tut, rolling my eyes. "Even Professor Snape owns a hairbrush. Some people just enjoy scaring children with their--"

"If you say 'Vampyric Good Looks', so help me, Hermione, I swear I'll spew...and not in the happy-friendly house elf liberation front either," Ron interrupts.

I crinkle my nose. "Ew and gross, Ron. Why would I think Professor Snape charming in the least bit? He's been absolutely horrid to all of us since we began here."

"Well, I dunno," Ron says, voice taking on its weird I'm-jealous-though-won't-admit-it tone. "I seem to remember a time when you thought Teenage Dark Lords were cute."

"You didn't tell me you had a crush on Tom Riddle," Harry says, lifting himself from his own misery to watch me curiously.

"She did," Ron confirms, nodding sagely. "Written up in a little notebook and all. I saw it."

"Oh, honestly!" I cluck, rolling my eyes again. "It none of your concern, Ron Weasley, who I choose to doodle about in a silly little notebook."

"Not in it, eh, mate?" Harry guesses, grinning at Ron's confirming blush. "Better luck next time."

"I'm in it!" he protests. "Number 7!"

"Penciled his own self in," I whisper theatrically to Harry. "Couldn't stand he was left off."

"Oy! Harry! Snape just came in!" Ron says, ducking low to the table as if Snape was angry at him. "Think he knows you're here?"

"Under the table, Harry," I take command of the situation. "He hasn't spotted our table yet. When he does, Ron and I will distract him."

"How?" Harry asks miserably as he slips under the table, taking his butterbeer with him.

"I haven't thought that far ahead yet but, when I do, I'll--"

"Let's snog!" Ron cries far too loudly, turning bright eyes toward me. "C'mon, 'Mione, Snape will hardly expect it. He'll forget about poor Harry straight away."

"But we'll get points off for public affection--you know how Snape hates that."

"All for the greater good," Ron assures me, pushing my shoulders till I half-lean, half-recline against the wall before blocking my view of Snape and the door with himself.

"But you've just been eating all the vile flavors of Bertie Bots cause Seamus Finigan dared you!" I cry shrilly. "I don't want to vicariously experience vomit flavor through you, Ronald Weasley!"

"Oh, honestly, give him a peppermint and be done with it," Harry hisses. "You two arguing is common and not distracting in the least. Snape will question you for sure."

"Here," I say, popping a peppermint ball into Ron's mouth. "Make sure to use it."

"I love you too, Hermione," he mutters sarcastically.

"Diversion, diversion, diversion," Harry chants from under the table as if to remind us. Ron watches me a second longer before diving right in.

"Lose something in the vicinity of that poor girl's tonsils, Mr. Weasley?" Snape asks coldly. Ron, to his credit, remembers to look embarrassed when he turns to reveal me, pink faced, behind him.

"No, sir. Seem to have found it."

Snape's eyes flick in my direction, narrowing when he recognizes who Ron's been snogging. "Miss Granger. Pity. I thought you had better sense. The clever ones never make brilliant decisions when it comes to love." His face clouds briefly. "Forty points--twenty each--from Gryffindor for your disgusting display of public affection. Learn to exercise restraint next time, Mr. Weasley."

"Oh, absolutely, sir, already done." Ron beams bright and artificial, pulling me toward him by the wrist so he can loop an arm around my shoulders.

Snape's eyes flick to me again. "And, Miss Granger..."

"Yes, sir?"

"Kindly return Mr. Weasley's peppermint ball. It seems you've exchanged more than just fluids during your--" (He grimaces.) "--incident."

"Yes, sir," I mutter, spitting the peppermint into my hand before offering it to Ron. "Won't happen again, sir."

"See to it," Snape warns before moving away to threaten another couple.

"That was brilliant!" Harry whispers excitedly as he crawls out from under the table. We quickly bundle into our cloaks and dash out the door before Snape can think to question us again. "How you managed to think up two peppermint balls, Hermione, was just bloody brilliant," Harry continues once outside. "You--"

"Um, there was only one peppermint, mate," Ron says, wrapping his yellow and maroon scarf tighter around his neck. "I got--uh--a bit too enthralled with my role."

"Oh."


	2. Chapter 2

Part II

"So if there was only one peppermint ball, that means. . ." Harry trails off, probably having as much trouble wrapping his head around the fact that Ron voluntarily snogged me as I am. Even worse, I liked it. Best not tell Harry – or Ron! – that ending to his brilliant diversion.

"Yes, yes. Catch up, mate," Ron says. "One peppermint, two people. It's not the disappearing gag kind either. It's just a regular, non-magical, un-charmed peppermint."

"That went from -" Harry points from Ron to me. He can't even say the words.

"Honestly, is it so hard to believe that Ron would come up with a plan that actually worked for once?" I ask briskly, hoping to throw Harry off the one peppermint-two people trail.

"Thanks, Mione, I love you too," Ron grumbles.

"I just. . ." Harry's eyes light up when he catches sight of Ginny in a crowd of fifth years. "Forget it. Brilliant job, mate. Mind if I borrow the, uh, technique sometime? Like, uh, now?"

"Oy!" Ron yells after Harry. "Keep your peppermints away from my little sister!"


	3. Chapter 3

Part III

"He steals all the good ideas, you know." Ron nods in Harry's direction. "Things sound better if The Boy Who Lived says them instead of The Boy Who Lived's Second Rate Sidekick. The Great Harry Potter casts a long shadow."

"Ronald Weasley, you are far from a second rate sidekick." I grab both his hands and squeeze to show I mean the encouragement and not just saying it to, well, say it. "You're good at loads of things Harry is rubbish at."

He looks down at me skeptically. "Name one."

"Wizard's chess."

"Big deal. When was the last time a girl was impressed by a bloke who played a brilliant game of Wizard's chess?"

"First year," I confess. "In the common room the night we were sorted and every game I've ever watched you play after that, Ron. You're not second rate. Don't ever say that. Don't even think it. Besides -" I squeeze his hands again to get him to look down at me. "I can think of one thing I know you're better at. Not that I have first hand experience with Harry, but from what Cho and Ginny said, you're a million times better at snogging."

"Really?"

I step forward till we're standing toe to toe. "And I think this would be a perfect opportunity to prove it." 


	4. Chapter 4

Part IV

I tilt my chin up, the gesture more of an offer to Ron than any words I could ever get out. I'm not good at this sort of thing. Being soft and vulnerable. I'm not the girl boys line up to snog. I'm not glamorous like Lavender, or vibrant like Ginny or exotic like Cho. I'm just me. That never seems good enough.

Ron's fingers smell like butter beer and dried ink as he traces every curve and hollow of my face. His thumb rubs across my lips, making my heart ratchet at the touch.

"You're better than that whole lot put together." He nods slightly toward the gaggle of girls Harry is still regaling with some life-or-death story that may or may not be true. "They're all showy and smoke and mirrors. You're real, 'Mione. You're honest. That's better than just about anything going."

"Perception is a funny thing."

Ron puts an arm around my shoulders, before tucking me against him like I'm some fragile, precious thing. To him, maybe I am. "Listen, let's do this up right. The snogging I mean," he adds, when I look up confused. "Somewhere nice and quiet with no audience or Snape poking around ready to dock points from Gryffindor. Name the time and place and I'll be there. I promise."

"The staircase by the girl's loo," I say. "Tonight. After bed checks."

"Breaking curfew?" Ron winks at me. "Hermione, you rebel, you."

I roll my eyes. "Will you be there or not?"

"I promised, didn't I?"

I snuggle close, enjoying the smell and warmth of him while I can. "Make sure you keep your promise, that's all."

Harry bounds up to us, looking exceedingly proud of himself. "Basilisk story," he says. "Never fails." He holds out his hand to show off 'Lake 2nite' scrawled across his palm in Ginny's handwriting.

"Remember Ginny has six older,_ very protective _brothers, mate," Ron warns.

"Just cover for me, will ya?"

Harry starts back toward Hogwarts, not bothering to question why Ron and I are snuggled up or even asking if we are coming along.


End file.
